


Trip and Fall

by cheolsoo



Series: What Happens at Seungcheol's House [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, One Night Stands, Porn With Plot, vernon's a baby boy, wonwoo has a hyung kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheolsoo/pseuds/cheolsoo
Summary: Hansol was disowned by his family for being gay. Wonwoo's parents knew he was gay before he was even out of the closet. What do they have in common? Seungcheol Choi and Joshua Hong. And drunken sex in the middle of December. But they have that in common with Seungcheol and Joshua too.





	1. Chapter 1

_“Hyung— Wonwoo hyung– Shit,”_

_“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”_

_“Please. Please.”_

Wonwoo wakes up to soaked sheets and stained underwear, his pyjamas sticking to his skin. He’s hard, harder than he’s been in a while at the break of dawn, and he wants nothing more than to delve back into the dream he was having.

He groans, throwing his sheets back and sitting up. He strips himself and then his bed, knowing that the musky smell of sweat would bother him if it were to dry into his sheets. He throws his clothes and his bedding into the corner of his room to wash later.

“Wonwoo? Are you okay?” He hears from just beyond his closed bedroom door.

“I’m fine, Joshua.” He replies.

“It sounded like you were having a bad dream.”

Wonwoo wants to laugh. It was the complete opposite of a bad dream. He’s still high off of the adrenaline that it gave him, his hands are jittery and his knees are weak. He grabs new clothes and new sheets from his closet and changes them in record time. By the time he gets around to getting back in bed, his alarm is ringing and he’s having to jump back up and get ready for the day.

It was a rude awakening, and it leaves him on edge for the rest of the day. Joshua is the first to notice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, handing Wonwoo a mug of coffee as he sits down at their kitchen table.

“I’m fine.” Wonwoo assures him.

Joshua stares at him with a look of suspicion in his eyes, but he lets it go. “You had your last exam yesterday, right?”

Wonwoo nods, sipping at his coffee.

“Huh. I thought you’d be asleep still.” Joshua says.

Wonwoo knows that Joshua still has a few exams to suffer through, and that Joshua would give anything to be in Wonwoo’s position right now. He shrugs.

“I wanted to get an early start.” Wonwoo says.

It was a dumb thing to do, waking up early because of a wet dream and then staying up after his alarm—that he totally intended to turn off last night—rang. He regrets it now, of course, while he sits half awake, watching Joshua bustle around the kitchen as he gets ready for one of his last exams of the semester.

Joshua’s always been a morning person, but he’s a quiet morning person. That’s what Wonwoo liked about living with Joshua for the first few months; knowing that he wouldn’t be woken up early by someone else’s alarm, and that there would still be a pot of coffee, hot and ready, for him when his alarm eventually woke him up. Sure, it turned into a mug of lukewarm coffee every other day as Joshua became overwhelmed by his full course load, but Wonwoo appreciated it nonetheless.

“Forewarning,” Wonwoo mutters when Joshua starts to slip on his shoes. “There’s a party on Friday and you’re coming with me.”

Joshua snorts. “You’re demanding today.” He says.

“I’m demanding every day.” Wonwoo says.

Joshua’s still laughing when the door has closed behind him.

\-----

Hansol is cold. He can feel the chill of winter settling into his bones, far too cold now for snowfall, though a thick layer of it still remains turning to ice on the ground. He can barely feel the part of his face that isn’t covered by his scarf. The cast on his arm is heavy, but it keeps his skin warmer than his coat does. He’s still revelling in the feeling of successful socialization, the aftereffects of even a minute spent talking to Joshua Hong.

He laughs to himself when he thinks about all of the jokes that Joshua made, even though he knows he won’t remember them when tomorrow comes. Being with friends is like being drunk; you have a really fun time, but you never remember much the next day. You remember feeling good, but you don’t remember how it actually feels to feel good.

His phone rings, knocking him right out into a world of spine tingling cold.

“Hello?”

“Hansol,” The voice is lithe and airy, and he knows it so well. He’s tempted to hang up.

“I told you to stop calling me.” He says.

“I miss you.”

Hansol sighs. “I know, kid. I miss you too.” He says.

When his parents died, Hansol and his little sister were shipped overseas to live with their mom’s sister. It was supposed to be a miracle that anyone would take in two kids past the age of 12 that couldn’t speak English as well as they could speak Korean. It wasn’t.

Hansol was a few months short of turning 18 when they found out. He’d been living a happy life, keeping his boyfriend hidden and passing off dates as studying at the library.

And then they found out. He still doesn’t know how they did, but they’d met him at the door one day, coming back from a date, and it was downhill from there. Legally, they were obligated to take care of him until his 18th birthday. Morally, they didn’t want to let their nephew suffer on the streets alone. But they weren’t willing to accept him for what he was, so they sent him off to boarding school in Korea for the last half of his senior year, with a promise that he would never come back.

“When are you coming home?” Sofia asks.

Hansol’s breath stops. It’s been two years since he left and she still hasn’t stopped asking.

“Soon, kid. I’ll see you soon.”

“Really?” She asks.

“Yeah.” He says, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. He reaches his front door in a few steps, jabbing at the keypad with frozen fingers until he hears the familiar click of the lock, an almost impossible task to accomplish when you have a phone in one hand and the other is in a cast. He darts into the elevator, already tugging his keys out of his pocket.

“You should hang up. I don’t want you getting in trouble.” He suggests, his heart breaking as he does.

“Okay. I miss you.” She says.

“I know.”

He cries himself to sleep.

\-----

The best way to describe Wonwoo’s relationship with Joshua is weird. They’re both listeners rather than talkers, which already doesn’t make sense, because how do two quiet people reach that point of comfortable silence if they don’t talk to establish comfort in the first place? Answer: they both become talkers.

Wonwoo has never met anyone who has brought out his talkative side more than Joshua Hong.

“Joshua, please. We all know that you’ve been having this weird lust crush on Seungcheol since forever.”

He has his head in Joshua’s lap, Joshua’s fingers carding through his hair. He doesn’t even need to look to know that Joshua’s cheeks are turning pink.

“Shut up.” Joshua mutters. Wonwoo snorts.

“Whatever. I should go get ready.” Wonwoo says, sitting up and stretching his stiff limbs. He’d been lying on the couch like that for far too long.

They make it out of the house by 7:01, into the uncomfortable cold of Joshua’s car. Wonwoo slumps down in the front seat, reaching for the seat heater as soon as Joshua turns the car on. It’s something that he’s always done, even in the middle of a hot summer when Joshua has the AC turned all the way up.

They both get lost in their own thoughts on the way to Seungcheol’s house. Wonwoo can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Neither of them particularly like conversing in the car, but they’ve never been _this_ quiet before.

They idle in front of Seungcheol’s house for a bit, before Wonwoo realizes that Joshua is completely lost in his own head.

“Joshua,” He says, startling Joshua back into reality. “You can turn the car off now, we’re here.”

The chatter from the party can be heard as soon as Wonwoo opens his door. Joshua is red cheeked and silent the entire time that they’re walking up the front steps of Seungcheol’s house. The possibility of Hansol showing up hadn’t even crossed Wonwoo’s mind once since Joshua had completely shut down the idea, so it takes him by surprise when he sees a flash of short blonde hair during his quick surveil of the room.

Joshua runs right into his back. “What the fuck, Wonwoo.” Joshua mutters, rubbing at his nose.

“I thought you said Hansol wasn’t coming.”

He feels his face start to heat up. Joshua shrugs. “I didn’t know,” he says. Wonwoo stands frozen in the doorway until Joshua speaks again.

“You know what?” He says. “We should go get drinks first.”

Wonwoo has never agreed to something so fast.

\-----

“Hey, Wonwoo,”

Wonwoo turns his head and all of a sudden he’s being dragged into the far corner of Seungcheol’s living room.

“Wai— What?” falls from his mouth as he stumbles after whoever is dragging him.

Hansol turns around and grins at him. “Joshua has had a crush on Seungcheol for the longest time.”

“Yeah, and?” Wonwoo says, still not fully grasping the situation. He lost his drink along the way, but he can still feel the effects of the alcohol coursing through his incredibly lightweight circulatory system.

Hansol giggles, and Wonwoo thinks that they’re both probably a little tipsy. “I’m giving them alone time. You’re so oblivious.”

Wonwoo shrugs, dropping his gaze down to his feet. “Sorry.” He says.

“Don’t apologize. It’s cute.” Hansol says, and Wonwoo can feel his cheeks burning, and he’s not even sure that he can blame it on the alcohol anymore.

“Come on,” Hansol starts again. “We can go sit in my room for a while. I know you don’t really like crowds."

“Your room?” Wonwoo asks.

“Yeah, Seungcheol’s my cousin. I stay here sometimes ‘cause it’s closer to my work.”

Hansol begins to pull on his arm again, and its then that Wonwoo realizes that Hansol never let go of his hand. His cheeks burn as he follows Hansol up the stairs, and he makes a desperate but failed attempt at not tripping over his own two feet.

\-----

Hansol is giggling again by the time they reach his bedroom. It isn’t small by any means, but the room seems smaller than usual once Wonwoo and all of his lanky height have been shoved inside. He’s glad the had the decency to somewhat clean his room before the party started, or he would’ve been feeling equally as flustered as Wonwoo looked.

“You can sit if you want.” Hansol offers, gesturing towards his bed. He’s still leaning against the back of the door, trying to catch his breath and watching Wonwoo take in his surroundings. “Those stairs never really get easier, no matter how many times you take them.”

Wonwoo smiles at that and perches himself on the edge of Hansol’s bed.

Everything about Wonwoo is so fragile and delicate, so contrasting to the bright red sheets on Hansol’s bed and the cans of red bull strewn across his desk. Wonwoo leans back on his hands, letting all of his weight sink down into the mattress. The bed frame creeks when Hansol sits down beside him, but it puts a smile on Wonwoo’s face.

“You enjoying the party?” Hansol asks after a minute of silence.

“I don’t know,” Wonwoo shrugs. “You kind of dragged up here as soon as I stepped through the door.”

Hansol giggles, his cheeks turning pink. “Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be, I appreciate it. You were right, I don’t really like crowds. I only showed up because I knew Seungcheol would be mad if I didn’t. He probably only invited me so that I’d bring Joshua, anyway. Those two have been dancing around each other for as long as I’ve known them.” Wonwoo says.

Hansol almost chokes. Joshua definitely wasn’t the reason why Seungcheol had invited Wonwoo. Hansol had practically begged Seungcheol to make sure that Wonwoo would come, even if he ended up just staring at Wonwoo from the other side of the room all night. His entire face is definitely as red as his sheets.

“What?” Wonwoo asks when he realizes that Hansol hasn’t said anything.

Hansol giggles. “Nothing, you’re just so oblivious.”

He’s definitely had too much to drink. He’s never called anyone cute as many times as he’s called Wonwoo cute in the past few minutes.

“I’m not oblivious.” Wonwoo pouts. It’s teasing, and Hansol finds it adorable.

Wonwoo has never considered himself to be a dumb person. In fact, he’s always considered himself relatively smart. Hours of watching discovery channel as a kid filled Wonwoo’s head with weird knowledge and facts. To hear someone call him oblivious is something that he’s never expected.

“It’s cute. I like that about you.” Hansol says, and Wonwoo chokes.

“You like that I have zero concept of what’s going on around me?” He says. Hansol laughs.

“I like a lot about you, you being kinda unaware is just one of those things.” Hansol reaches over and takes Wonwoo’s hand in his, and Wonwoo fully stops breathing.

Wonwoo pouts again, masking the fact that every organ in his body has stopped working and he’s completely transcended the land of the living. “You can’t just say that you like that I’m dumb.” He says.

Hansol laughs again. He lets go of Wonwoo’s hands and grabs onto his chin instead. “You’re not dumb. You just daydream a lot, and I like that. I like you.”

“You’re gonna kill me, Hansol Choi.” Wonwoo says, pulling away from Hansol and leaning back so that his head is on Hansol’s pillow. He’s surrounded by Hansol’s scent, and it covers him in a blanket of warmth and comfort.

Hansol lies down beside him, and the reality of the situation fully sinks in. Wonwoo is lying in the bed of the boy that he’s had a crush on for over a year, and he’s not as oblivious as Hansol thinks he is so he knows that there’s a very real possibility that Hansol likes him back. So real that it’s practically guaranteed.

Hansol rolls over, abandoning his pillows and settling into the dip of Wonwoo’s neck. He throws an arm over Wonwoo’s waist and tangles their ankles together, and Wonwoo hopes that the way his breath catches in his throat isn’t audible.

“I like being here with you, Wonwoo.” Hansol says. Wonwoo can feel every syllable that Hansol breathes out against his skin. The way that his name sounds so familiar coming from Hansol’s mouth makes his chest feel warm.

“Yeah, me too.” Wonwoo says.

“Can you kiss me?”

Nothing is said after that, Wonwoo doesn’t even nod. It’s an awkward rearranging of things, having to detangle from each other without disturbing the sheets under them too much. Wonwoo takes it slow, maneuvering and shifting until he’s hovering over Hansol’s body completely. He’s slow on the way down, too, taking what feels like multiple eternities to lean down and slot their lips together.

When their lips finally meet, it feels like every single thing that Wonwoo has ever done has been a lead up to this moment. Nothing has ever been or ever will be better than the feeling of Hansol underneath him, clutching his arms and pressing into him like a life force.

It turns from slow and tentative to quick paced and passionate in a matter of seconds.

“Hyung,” Hansol gasps out against his skin, running his hands down Wonwoo’s arms until he lands on the hem of Wonwoo’s shirt.

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate to sit back on his heels and peel the shirt from his body, doesn’t even stop to shiver when he feels the cool air touch his skin. All he can think about is Hansol underneath him, flushed and panting and calling him hyung.

“Say that again,” Wonwoo says. He latches his mouth onto Hansol’s neck, sucking and licking at his skin until it turns red.

Hansol gasps again and starts to shove Wonwoo’s pants off of his hips. “Wan— Want you, hyung.”

He pushes Wonwoo over with his pants still around his thighs. “Wanna ride you.” He says, throwing a leg over Wonwoo’s hips and pulling his own shirt over his head.

Wonwoo is pretty sure that he hears the door open, hears someone yell something, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s too busy watching the way Hansol writhes when he runs his thumbs over his nipples. It doesn’t take long for Hansol to get his sweats off, though it does take a bit longer to get Wonwoo’s legs out of his impossibly skinny jeans.

“Hyung, these pants are torture.” Hansol remarks, once said pants have been discarded onto the floor.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and shuts him up with a kiss. He can feel how hard Hansol is through his boxers, and it starts a burning of lust in his stomach that he can’t stop.

“Are you sure you want this?” Wonwoo asks, pulling himself away from Hansol until they’re at an arms length.

Everything falls in slow motion, and Hansol smiles. “I’ve wanted this since I met you. Remember? I called you hyung and your cheeks turned red and you wouldn’t talk to me for a week.” He says.

“You sure?” Wonwoo asks again.

“Yes, Wonwoo,” Hansol chuckles. “I’m sure.”

Wonwoo nods, and Hansol leans back down. They pick back up at a slower pace than before, reassuring Wonwoo that they’re not just rushing into something that they’ll regret later. He pushes Hansol’s boxers down his legs, until they’re too far down for him to reach and Hansol has to detach himself to pull them off all the way. It all feels incredibly surreal from then, Hansol sitting infront of him fully undressed, but it’s better than any dream Wonwoo’s ever had.

He lays himself back down on the bed, bleached blond hair splaying out around his head like a halo, and he pulls Wonwoo by the back of the neck until their foreheads are touching. Wonwoo can’t help himself from dragging a hand down Hansol’s torso, settling on his hip.

“I need—“ Wonwoo starts, but he’s cut off.

“Nightstand. Top drawer.” Hansol says, pressing a chaste kiss to Wonwoo’s lips.

He reaches over, pulling the drawer open and blindly rifling through it until he pulls out a bottle of lube. He pours some out onto his fingers and then throws it down onto the end of the bed, and then grabs a pillow to put under Hansol’s back.

“Such a gentleman,” Hansol teases, but his mouth drops open into a gasp as he feels a finger slide into him. Wonwoo locks their lips together, a hand beside Hansol’s head to hold himself up.

“’S cold.” Hansol mumbles. Wonwoo chuckles.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

It doesn’t take long before Hansol is asking for another finger, and then another.

“You okay?” Wonwoo stops and asks, seeing the way that Hansol’s face is contorted in a pained expression.

Hansol nods. He has three fingers inside of him, he can definitely feel a stretch. “‘M fine. Keep going.” He says.

Wonwoo nods and continues pumping his fingers. He goes slow, until Hansol is moaning under him and he’s confident that it doesn’t hurt too much anymore. And then, Hansol jolts with a gasp that melts into a moan of ‘hyung,’ and Wonwoo knows he’s doing okay.

“I’m ready. Want you inside of me.” Hansol says, locking his fingers around the back of Wonwoo’s neck.

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo asks.

“Wonwoo,” Hansol starts. “This is the most sure I’ve been of anything in my entire life. I want you.”

Wonwoo nods in understanding. He discards his very last piece of clothing so fast that he can’t even remember how it happens, he’s just suddenly very nude. The cold breeze in the room brings his attention to how hard and untouched he actually is.

“Lie down,” Hansol demands. “Still wanna ride you.”

Wonwoo lays back, pushing aside the pillow that he’d pulled down for Hansol earlier. He leans against the headboard, not wanting to fully lie down for fear that he might miss out on something.

“’M gonna be so good.” Hansol mutters, moving to straddle Wonwoo’s lap.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo breathes. Hansol nods, grabbing ahold of Wonwoo’s cock, slicking it up with lube and positioning it under himself. “You gonna be good for hyung?”

Hansol whimpers in reply, and starts to lower himself down onto Wonwoo’s dick. It burns, but he keeps pushing.

“Hey, slow down. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” Wonwoo says. Hansol nods, stopping in his tracks.

“Wanna be good.”

Wonwoo sits up fully and lets Hansol lean forward onto him. He wraps his arms around Hansol’s waist. “I know you do, baby. You’re doing so well.”

It takes a bit for Hansol to be able to fully seat himself on Wonwoo’s cock, but when he does they both gasp. Hansol pushes Wonwoo back so that he’s leaning against the headboard again and starts to move his hips. At this angle, there’s a constant pressure against his prostate that has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. It’s been a while since he’s done something like this, he doesn’t see himself lasting that long.

The bouncing up and down has him feeling burnt out faster than he expected, and he starts to slow down.

“Getting tired?” Wonwoo asks, starting to sit up again. It pushes his cock harder against Hansol’s prostate and Hansol whimpers. Despite his desperation for release, he nods. He falls limp against Wonwoo’s chest, and Wonwoo takes it as a sign to lay him down on the bed, his head right at the foot.

“Let hyung take care of you.” He says. Hansol nods.

Wonwoo takes it slow, pushing in and taking everything Hansol has to offer. It doesn’t take long for Hansol to start panting again, his legs hooking around Wonwoo’s waist.

“Hyung, I’m close.” Hansol moans into Wonwoo’s ear.

Wonwoo nods and leans down to kiss Hansol, taking his cock in one hand and stroking it in tempo with his thrusts. Hansol comes with a cry of ‘Wonwoo hyung,’ tumbling from his mouth. Wonwoo fucks him through it, keeps thrusting and grinding his hips until Hansol stops trembling.

“Can hyung cum on you?” Wonwoo asks, starting to pull out.

Hansol shakes his head and tightens his legs, keeping Wonwoo in his place. “Inside.” He says.

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo asks.

“Mhmm.”

Wonwoo starts to rock his hips again, thrusting at a faster pace as he chases his own release. Hansol whimpers from the overstimulation, and Wonwoo almost feels bad until he sees the look of pure bliss that’s washed over Hansol’s face.

He comes with a shudder and a groan, his hips jerking forward a few times before he can pull out. Hansol moans as he does, his legs snapping shut as a reflex.

Wonwoo presses a kiss to Hansol’s forehead before he lowers himself onto the bed beside him.

“Hyung,” Hansol says, still a little breathless.

“Yeah?”

“We’re upside down.” He says.

Wonwoo laughs. “I guess we are.”

\-----

Wonwoo wakes up to his phone ringing. He doesn’t know how it still has battery, and he curses its stupid ringtone for interrupting a dream he was having about fucking Hansol into his bedsheets.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

It’s Joshua. Wonwoo groans as he looks around himself. He isn’t anywhere that he recognizes, but he sees Hansol lying on the bed beside him, sheets wrapped around his waist and nothing else. There’s a hickey on his neck, and Wonwoo realizes that they’re both naked.

“Uh, Seungcheol’s house still, I think.” He says, willing his cheeks to stop burning and his head to stop pounding.

“Okay, I’m still here too.” Joshua says. “I’ll meet you in the car. Get Hansol, we can drop him off on the way. Hurry up.”

Wonwoo doesn’t give much of a reply other than a noncommittal grunt into the receiver, and then he hears the familiar click of the line cutting and he realizes how screwed he is. Hansol was definitely very drunk last night, and the more he thinks about it the more he has a sinking feeling in his gut that they shouldn’t have done what they did.

“Hansol,” Wonwoo calls out, attempting to shake him awake. His skin is still sticky with a layer of sweat from their encounter the night before.

Hansol groans, rolling over and covering his face with a pillow. “So loud.” He mutters.

“Hansol, wake up. We gotta go. Joshua’s waiting.” Wonwoo says.

He stands up, pulling on his clothes and throwing Hansol’s onto the bed. Hansol complies silently, pulling his shirt over his head and his boxers over his legs.

“Why was I nake—,” He starts to ask, but he feels something trickle down the back of his legs and his face turns white with realization.

“We had sex. Hurry up.” Wonwoo says, bluntly as if this doesn’t affect him in the slightest. Hansol wants to be frustrated, but he sees the pink tinge to Wonwoo’s cheeks and knows that he isn’t as nonchalant as he’s pretending to be.

Wonwoo leaves the room, Hansol not far behind him, and promises himself that he’s never going to drink again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation

Wonwoo’s headphones are in his ears, but they’re not playing any music. He lies on the sofa in complete silence, not willing to move. Joshua left five minutes ago, and he stares at the door that’s waiting to be locked. Instead, he turns onto his side with a groan and shuts his eyes.

There’s something inside of his head or his heart, he can’t tell which, that’s begging him to call or text Hansol. He’s had Hansol’s number programmed into his phone since the day Joshua introduced him as “the closest thing I have to a brother, so please take care of him.” The sentence rings through Wonwoo’s head. Take care of him he did, maybe a little too well. His chest starts to burn with screams that beg to be let out.

“Get it together, Wonwoo.” He mumbles to himself, running a hand through his hair as he sits up.

A knock on the door echoes through the living room. Wonwoo sighs and then shouts, “It’s open.”

The door creaks open after a few seconds, Hansol’s head peaking in through the crack. Wonwoo lies back down on the couch, refusing to face him. He wishes he’d just locked the door when Joshua left.

“Joshua isn’t here.” He says. He knows it’s a Saturday; he knows what likely brought Hansol here if Wonwoo’s own presence wasn’t enough incentive. He ignores the way that the couch dips under Hansol’s weight, or the feeling of Hansol lifting his feet into his lap.

“I know,” Hansol says. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Wonwoo holds his breath for a second, before letting it out and turning to face Hansol. He throws his phone and his headphones onto the coffee table. “Talk.”

Hansol plays with the hem of Wonwoo’s jeans, and its more comforting than uncomfortable and Wonwoo hates it.

“I don’t–” He hesitates. “I don’t want us to be over, you know? I don’t want to be just a one time thing with you.”

“Hansol,” Wonwoo starts, but then he realizes that Hansol is crying and he shuts his mouth. He sits up, placing his feet on the floor and pulling Hansol into his arms. He runs his fingers through Hansol’s hair, feeling dampness begin to spread over the front of his shirt as Hansol’s tears soak through the thin fabric.

“I like you so much, hyung.” Hansol sobs. “Why are you laughing?”

Wonwoo hadn’t even realized that he’d began to chuckle until Hansol pointed it out. “I just- You’re so cute. Why are you crying?” He says.

Hansol glares, but it’s broken by laughter of his own. “Because I like you, and I feel like you’re not taking me seriously. And I’m running on, like, three hours of sleep and the single coffee I had at brunch.” He says, but a smile stretches across his face and he tightens his hold on Wonwoo’s waist.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo breathes out, pressing his lips to the top of Hansol’s head. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Hansol hums, lifting his head and raising an eyebrow. Their lips meet before Wonwoo can say anything else, pulled together by some unseeable force. It’s like they’re magnets, attracted to each other without reason or means, just pure nature. Hansol’s lips are chapped and rough against his, but Wonwoo bets that his are probably the same. He’s been a mess since yesterday, and he hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch to grab food, much less grab a tube of lip balm.

Hansol’s body is hot against Wonwoo’s skin, his fingers clutching the front of Wonwoo’s shirt as Wonwoo lets his hands roam wherever they’d like. It’s slow and relaxed, and it feels like time stops for them in this moment.

“How are you gonna make it up to me?” Hansol asks, his voice quiet and low and dripping with honey.

Wonwoo’s breath escapes his lungs completely. “Joshua could come back any second now.” He says. It’s his last ditch attempt to appease the anxious demon growing inside of him, but it’s also a true statement. He doesn’t know how long Joshua’s been gone for or how long he’s planning to stay out, and it’s a Saturday which means he’s guaranteed to be back before the pizza shop next door closes.

“I don’t care.” Hansol says. His hands slip under Wonwoo’s shirt, leaving sparks in their trail.

Wonwoo hums. “Hansol, it’s Saturday.” He says. “Joshua will literally be home any second. It’s already dark out.”

Hansol huffs and drops his dead weight onto Wonwoo’s chest. As if on cue, the lock on the door clicks and Joshua walks through with Seungcheol in tow. Hansol tries to scramble to the other side of the couch, but Wonwoo laughs and holds him tight, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he leans back against the armrest.

“It’s nice to see you in the living room on a Saturday instead of hiding somewhere.” Joshua says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Wonwoo’s face starts to turn red as he continues to wrestle Hansol into somehow lying comfortably tucked into his side. “Shut up. Just order the pizza already, I’m hungry.” Eventually, Hansol just smacks his arm and lies on top of him.

\-----

Hansol wakes up to arms wrapped around his waist and a musky scent invading his nose. The apartment is dark, Joshua and Seungcheol are nowhere to be found, and all of their leftover pizza has been put away. He wiggles his way out of Wonwoo’s arms, trudging into the kitchen to look at the clock on the microwave. 3:34. He groans and runs a hand over his face, not wanting to imagine the amounts of texts and missed calls he has from his roommate.

“Hansol?” He hears, a gruff voice calling our from the darkness of the living room.

He makes his way back to the side of the couch, crouching down and running a hand through Wonwoo’s hair. “I’m here.” He says.

Wonwoo smiles, allowing his head to follow Hansol’s touch. “Thought I was dreaming. Or you’d left me. Or both.”

“Never.”

He takes a peek at the door and finds Joshua’s keys missing from the hanger on the wall. _He must’ve driven Seungcheol home and decided to stay,_ he thinks.

“‘M not comfy here.” Wonwoo pouts, after a moment of contemplation. He takes his body through a short, dramatic series of twists and turns before huffing and settling back into the couch cushions.

Hansol snorts. “Bed?” Is all he says.

Wonwoo nods and groans, putting his sore muscles to work as he drags himself off of the couch. It’s then that Hansol realizes he’s never been inside of Wonwoo’s room. Sure, he knows where it is and he’s seen it in passing, but he’s never actually been inside. Wonwoo trudges across the living room floor, fingers lazily linked through Hansol’s in a half assed attempt to guide him. When the door is pushed open, it’s everything and nothing that Hansol expected at the same time.

The walls are pure white and blank, except for the space above the finished wenge bedframe that’s been shoved into the corner. The flooring is the same light oak wood as the living room (Hansol had expected this, Joshua’s is the same) that’s been covered in a plush, grey rug (this, he had not expected). The city lights stream in through the window, but it’s not enough for Hansol to make out the pictures above Wonwoo’s bed. The whole room carries a light, clean scent that is so distinct that it takes Hansol a minute to figure out where it’s coming from.

“This is where the magic happens.” Wonwoo says, collapsing face first onto the mattress.

Hansol shuts the door behind himself, the latch clicking quietly into place. “Does the magic include you sleeping?”

Wonwoo hums and rolls himself into somewhat of an acceptable sleeping position. “That’s all it is.”

Hansol tugs his shirt off and lowers himself onto the bed slowly, crawling into the space that Wonwoo’s made for him. The scent that he noticed before hits him full force, emanating from Wonwoo’s pillow and wrapping around him in a comforting warmth. His head starts to get dizzy as he realizes that this scent is just Wonwoo. Everything about it is so Wonwoo, and Hansol can feel himself fall deeper.

The anxiety in his stomach starts to rise when it finally sets in that he’s in Wonwoo’s room, let alone his bed.

“You’re too far away.” Wonwoo says, sticking an arm out blindly.

Hansol scoots forward. “Sorry.” He says, his cheeks blazing. He feels Wonwoo’s arm snake over his waist, pulling him even closer until the distance between them is nonexistent. Hansol’s arms are squished between them, uncomfortably so, but he doesn’t mind.

\-----

Wonwoo wakes up to the warmth of Hansol’s palm splayed across the side of his neck, a mouthful of hair, and an incessant buzzing. He rearranges Hansol’s limbs so that he can reach across him and grapple for whatever phone won’t stop ringing.

“Ello?” He barely gets out.

“Hansol?”

Wonwoo freezes, realizing what he’s done. “Er, no. He’s still sleeping.” He says.

“Oh.” The girl on the other end sounds disappointed. “When he wakes up, can you ask him if he’s coming home for Christmas next week?”

Wonwoo doesn’t know what to say. He hesitates for long enough that Hansol is wriggling under him and taking the phone from his hands.

“Hey, kiddo.” Hansol says as soon as the phone’s touched his ear. Wonwoo doesn’t feel comfortable listening to their conversation.

Another minute passes before Hansol is hanging up and tossing the phone onto the bed beside him, running a hand over his face. He breathes in, his torso lifting off the bed a little with the strength of it.

“You wanna talk about it?” Wonwoo offers. Hansol shakes his head, his eyes still closed.

Wonwoo understands, so he lies back down and takes Hansol’s hand into his. He plays with Hansol’s fingers, feeling each bony knuckle and every rough calloused pad from Joshua trying to teach him how to play the guitar. The callouses on his hands are softening, though, from lack of use. The weight of the cast on Hansol’s arm is heavy in Wonwoo’s hand. He traces it, all the way up to the weird cotton and then Hansol’s soft flesh.

Hansol had explained it as a hairline fracture, nothing too serious. He wouldn’t have the cast for long, he’d probably be swapping it out for a brace in a matter of weeks, and Wonwoo should’t worry. Really, he shouldn’t, but he still does. He kisses Hansol’s cheek, instinctively and spontaneously, watching with a smile as Hansol’s face reddens. He does it again, peppering Hansol’s face in kisses until he’s giggling and completely red faced.

“You’re ridiculous.” Hansol mutters when Wonwoo finally plants a kiss on his awaiting lips.

“Maybe I am.” Wonwoo shrugs. “We should get up. I’ll try and get Joshua to make us some breakfast.”

“He isn’t home. His keys weren’t on the wall when I woke up last night.” Hansol says.

As if on cue, Hansol hears the telltale sound of the front door swinging open and Joshua hanging his keys on the wall.

“Wonwoo, Hansol, you better not be having sex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took me almost a year to write that lmao  
> I'm really trying to push myself out of my comfort zone with this kinda stuff so expect more unnecessary prosing about how beautiful hansol is amongst other things

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I'm gonna write another part to this so it's not being marked as complete lol


End file.
